Nerves
by Sorcha Annysia
Summary: Harry Potter was bored. Inexplicably bored. And what better to do than annoy a Dark Lord? You may be asking, where's the author during all of this? Damned if I know. Slightly AU. Set in the summer before Harry's fifth year. Some changes to the plot. Major crack!fic. One-shot. For now...


**This will take place in the summer before Harry's fifth year. There will be plot changes, like Harry already knowing about the mind connection. This is solely for the purpose of my crack fic, which was written for my bestie Ebony, and my own sick amusement. Ya know, this being FanFiction, I technically don't have to do a disclaimer, as by posting on this website, I forfeit any and all ownership I may have to Harry Potter. But, for the sake of you little, insignificant giants, I will say… I don't own Harry Potter, I'm gonna DIE! WAAAAAAAAAA! Enjoy.**

~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~

Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, Icon of the Light, Gryffindor Prince and Boy-Who-Lived was bored. Inexplicably bored. Why, you ask?

Damned if I know.

Dumbledore had forbidden him from talking to his friends, and with all his schoolbooks locked in the cupboard, he had nothing to do. He wanted to be out there fighting, as Voldemort had risen in June, and he was… that's it! Voldemort! I'm not allowed to talk to friends, and I need to fight Voldemort. But how to do them both from his room? Uhhhhhhh… Ummmmmm… Uhhhhhhh… Yep, not getting anywhere. Gimme a minute to think, I'm not good at coming up with believable plot twists. Anyway, while I think, Harry can sing us a song! Which song, though? Oh Merlin, not again. Oh, I know! Hit it!

_Oooooooh,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

Now Harry, who actually has a brain and not an air bubble, had figured something out while the author-who really is an idiot-was trying to figure out what the hell she's going to write. There was, in fact, one way Harry could get to Voldemort from his bedroom. The mind connection. Seeing as the author still has not figured this out and is now banging her head against a wall-which might improve her looks, if I may be so bold-Harry decided to take things into his own hands. This song was beginning to annoy him. And, if it annoyed him, it would most certainly annoy the Dark Lord Voldemort. Feeling particularly smart for solving this equation-which definitely could't be solved by a five-year-old monkey fish, I'm sure-he decided to get it over and done with before the author thought of a way to ruin his perfectly laid plans that would never fail, by doing something like making him fall in love with Voldemort and have little Volde-babies, as she has been deprived of her daily dose of Harrymort due to the horrors of Grade Nine Maths Homework. (Which she should probably be doing now, but the plot bunnies ran away with her laptop and wouldn't give it back.)

Anyway, knowing it had to be done, no matter how horrible it would be, Harry had to enter Voldemort's mind. Cue shudder. However, when he did, he found something he never expected to find…

**RABID PLOT BUNNIES! MUA HA HA HA HA!**

(\_/)

(")_(")

(\_/)

(")_(")

(\_/)

(")_(")

(\_/)

(")_(")

(\_/)

(")_(")

(Lol, not really.)

~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~

Lucius Malfoy (Whose pimp name is Luscious Mouthful) was worried. And no, it wasn't something that happened often. But when it involved his potential arrest on the grounds of having a tattoo in the unconventional place of his left forearm, he became worried. Just a little bit. At the current moment, his Lord and Master was sitting at his desk. This wasn't unusual at all. What _was_ unusual however, was the fact that his Lord and Master was repeatedly banging his head against the aforementioned desk. So, yes, Lucius Malfoy was worried for the sanity of his Lord. Or, he would be, however, if his Lord had and sanity that he knew of left. He stood and watched for some time, his Master seemingly not noticing him observing. Not long later, he left to report to his family the fall of their Lord.

~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~

He was going mad. He was losing his mind. He _had_ lost his mind.

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_Get on your nerves,_

_I know a song that's gonna get on your nerves,_

_And it goes like this!_

He would kill the boy for doing this if he still had the will. But he didn't. Not any longer. So, he decided to end this. Permanently.

~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~

Now, as the author looked back at her laptop with an idea of what to write, she screamed as she gazed upon the mess we have created. Cue evil laugh.

~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~

**Beta'd - sort of - by Ebony. At the moment, Ebony is my muse. So, kudos to Ebony. Anyway, this can be read as a one-shot. If you want me to make this a multi-chapter story, let me know. I will be a while before I get another chapter up if this is your choice. You can read the end however you want, it's your choice. Until next time.**

**Sorcha Annysia**


End file.
